


Adventure

by Corvid_Knight



Series: Changeling [3]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Fantasy AU, Gen, fae fuckery, hal is a changeling, look at these lil kids being dumb i love them, magic? magic, my tumblr is knight-of-heart-and-art
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 12:38:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14716200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corvid_Knight/pseuds/Corvid_Knight
Summary: Hal decides to drag Dirk along on a fact-finding mission.





	1. Chapter 1

"Dirk." 

If you ignore him, maybe he'll leave you alone.

"Dirk." 

Dave'll want him for something. Come on, the universe owes you some quiet time, right? That's totally how karma works. 

" _Dirk._ " 

Damn. "What, Hal?" You huff, shutting your notebook and looking up at your twin. From the look on his face, you know that you really don't want to know what he wants to tell you; his eyes only get that bright and his smile that mischievous when he's about to suggest something that has the potential to land the both of you in deep shit. "Actually, nevermind. I'm not doing it." 

"Oh, come on." He rolls his eyes and sits down directly on the desk in front of you, sending a cup of pens scattering all over the floor. "You don't even know what I'm thinking right now." 

"I know _you,_ so..." 

"Come on, hear me out." 

"If you get us grounded again, I'm putting a fucking salt circle around my room, Hal," you warn him. His changeling nature prevents him from crossing that; it'd be a major annoyance, especially if you put a line of glue down first to keep the salt on the floor longer. "You have two minutes to sell me on whatever you're planning." 

"Three." The bargaining is automatic; you know that. 

"Fine, but it starts now." 

Hal takes a deep breath and meets your eyes, still smiling even though his tone's serious when he starts talking. "Okay, so. I've been thinking about myself." 

"Don't you always do that?" 

" _Rude_. Also, shut the fuck up. I mean my _nature,_ Dirk. I'm a fae creature, a changeling." 

"Yeah, you do enough freaky shit that we're not about to forget that. So?" 

Red eyes fix on you. It's surprisingly unnerving; he usually doesn't focus this tightly. "Why?" 

"Why, what?" 

"I'm a _changeling,_ Dirk. I know you've read almost as much about my kind as I have; you have to have read the parts where it _explicitly_ states that changelings are weak, sickly little bastards who suck away the life and luck of their _unfortunate_ victims and give nothing back." 

Hal's voice acquires an angry edge as he talks. For pretty much your whole life, there's been people who questioned your bro's decision to adopt a changeling, rather than just trading Hal back for you. It's kind of the reason that you and your twin both know how to hold your own in a fight—some kids tend to pick up their parents' views, decide that Hal's a monster. 

"You don't do that, though," you point out to him. "I mean, you're an asshole sometimes, but you tend to do the exact opposite of what everyone says changelings are supposed to do." 

That just draws out a frustrated sound from him, like a cat being stuffed in a washing machine. "But _why_? I don't understand why my existence doesn't seem to follow the rules for my kind, Dirk!" 

"Calm down." 

"No." Despite that insistence, he takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly before saying anything else. "All evidence suggests that a fae forced to live among humans should lose their powers within a few months—" 

"Dave didn't _force_ you." 

"—and it's been ten years. Almost exactly." Hal overrides your point, finishes making his, and stares at you for a few seconds to see if you're going to try to talk again so he can interrupt, again. (You don't give him the satisfaction.) "I want to find out." 

"Find out _how,_ exactly?" You're pretty sure you already know, but you might as well get confirmation on how monumentally stupid his plan is. 

And sure enough, Hal gives you that trickster's grin. "By asking the other fae, of course." 

"... _no._ "

* * *

Ten minutes later you're following him through a stand of trees that should be maybe forty feet across. God fucking damn it. 

"You do know this isn't where we went through last time?" you feel the need to point out. "We moved when we were, like, seven. That wasn't even that long ago. Six years. Did you seriously forget it?" 

"No." Hal lets go of a branch he was holding, probably in an attempt to clothesline you. Fortunately, you got a hint of his intention through...okay, you don't know how it happened but it did happen, and you're already ducking under the branch when it whips through where your neck should be. "All forests have the path to Home, if you know how to walk." 

"I don't think this qualifies as a forest, Hal. There's like, twenty trees." 

"...shut up." You hear him huff in irritation; then he reaches back and grabs a handful of your shirt, yanking you (painfully) forward—

Into a clearing that really shouldn't be here. 

Huh. 

The underbrush is gone. The trees are huge, so tall you can't see the tops and wide enough around at the base that you're willing to bet that your and Hal's arms together wouldn't reach halfway around one. The quality of the light's changed, probably because those enormous, impossible trees block out the sun. 

You can smell honeysuckle. 

"Okay," you admit, shaking off Hal's hand as you keep staring. "You can say 'I told you so' now." 

Your dick of a brother just laughs and takes your hand, leading you through the trees on a path that only he can see.

* * *

Even if you can't see Hal's path, you can see...well, other things. You kind of really don't like seeing them, either. 

When Dave first packed up all your and his and Hal's stuff and moved you all to the new house, you had _horrible_ nightmares. There were a variety, but the worst ones featured a shadowy _thing_ , like a person but darker, shadowy and bestial without being any less tangible. 

The dreams were bad enough that your seven-year-old self retreated into Dave or Hal's bed for safety, but there's nowhere to hide from the shadow-thing that you keep glimpsing out of the corner of your eye in the here and now. Running is a possibility, you guess, if you can twist your hand free of Hal's. Although you wish you weren't so sure that as soon as you flee, it'll chase you, that it'll _catch_ you—

Hal stops. "You need to close your eyes," he says firmly. 

"What? No? You're going to walk me into a fucking tree, Hal—" 

"Not today." He shakes his head impatiently, and puts his hands on the side of _your_ head, holding right when you automatically try to pull away. Making you meet his eyes instead of looking for your nightmare. "You're...a lot closer to being like me than Dave was, the last time I walked this path—maybe because we're kids? Or because we're twins, so you're getting a little of what I have—but this isn't safe for you to see." 

"I'm fine, Hal." The thought of walking through this place blind sends a cold spike of fear down your spine. If he wants to talk about stuff that's not safe, _that_ would be the very definition of it. 

"You're not _fine,_ dumbass. I can feel the fucking Guardian trying to influence you, and don't you tell me it isn't working." He scowls at you, tightening his grip when you try to pull away. "Stop trying to look for it. Look, if it gets you it's going to get _me_ , Dirk, and that would be _very_ bad for both of us." 

"Self-serving asshole," you say automatically, trying to look for the damn shadow without moving your head. 

"Yeah, because I know Dave would kill me if I lost you." Hal lets you go ( _finally_ ) and then snags your shades when you turn to look for the shadow, stowing them somewhere and putting both hands over your eyes from behind. 

"What the fuck—Hal—" 

"Dirk, you need to trust me right now." 

"Let me the fuck go!" 

"I _can't._ " 

And you realize, as you stand there and try to figure out what the hell to do, that Hal's scared. He hides it pretty well, just like you normally would, but he's your brother. Your twin. You know. 

So you take a deep breath, force yourself to stop thinking about ripping his hands away from your face, and very calmly say, "Don't walk me into anything."

Hal just laughs and starts gently steering you in what you hope is the right direction.

* * *

It is the right direction, you guess, because nothing grabs you and tears you apart, and Hal doesn't walk you into any trees or thorny vines. Which is cool. You guess the near-constant war you have with him is currently on pause. 

It kind of spends a lot of time on pause? You guess? If there's nothing for the two of you to band together against, you kind of just tend to snipe at each other, verbally and sometimes physically. Dave's pretty much accepted that the two of you won't kill each other by now; he just kind of rolls with the fighting at this point...

"Ah," Hal says in a very pleased tone, and takes his hands off your eyes. 

"Oh, _finally,_ " you say to him, and immediately forget what you were going to follow that up with. "What the fuck?" 

The trees are gone. Like, really gone, not just behind you—you ascertain that by turning a full circle looking for them. There's nothing even resembling a forest in sight, just hills covered in the greenest grass that you've ever seen. Maybe the tallest, too—it comes almost to your knees, but somehow still has the feeling of a carefully cared-for lawn. 

In most directions, the green grass continues for a really fucking long way, until it turns to what seems to be mountains. In one direction, though, you can see sunlight sparkling off water. 

There really shouldn't be ocean within walking distance. 

Huh. 

Hal's grinning, looking entirely too pleased with himself as you focus on him to give him a good glare. "What, you don't remember this from last time?" he asks innocently. 

"I was _three_!" you snap back at him. 

"Okay, that's fair." Your twin shrugs and starts walking away. 

After a second, you sigh and follow him.


	2. Chapter 2

He didn't bring a fucking flashlight, which is just one more proof that _you_ are, in fact, the smart one of the family. Or maybe not, because the fact that you refuse to let Hal take the flashlight means that you're also the one who leads the way into the weird manmade cave thing that Hal's dead set on going through. 

Also, it's a very small flashlight and you can only see maybe three feet in front of you, so once you get about fifteen feet in and the light from the entrance fades, it's pretty close to terrifying. "Remind me why we're doing this again?" 

"Because I want to find a fae and ask them questions," Hal whispers back. For a second you wonder why he's whispering; then you realize it's probably because you whispered your question to him. "Unless you meant 'why are we going in through one of the smaller entrances instead of the Grand Door,' in which case the answer is 'because humans don't belong here.' And there's fewer traps this way. I think." 

"You _think_?" Your voice gets a little louder, and Hal winces. 

"Yes, Dirk, I _think_! I haven't been here for ten years, and even if I wasn't technically three years old when I was here, I was the same age as you when I left—" 

"That doesn't even make sense!" 

"It's not my fault it doesn't make sense! It's not my fault I'm _fae_!" 

Hal's been getting steadily louder, too, and on that last word his voice cracks. As if that's a signal, he stops dead, pulling his hand free of yours and crossing his arms defensively as you stop and turn to face him. 

Oh, shit. 

"Hal, come on." 

"Fuck _off._ " His voice is wavering now, and your eyes itch in sympathy for the tears that you know are filling his eyes right now. You're very careful to not raise the flashlight enough to hit his face, just in case he really is crying right now. "We're going back."

"Back home? No way." 

"Yes way. If I was going to come here I should've come alone, not dragged you along. _Stupid._ " 

You hesitate for a second, parse the subtext of what had saying and what he means, and come to a conclusion. You don't really like the conclusion, but you're pretty confident in it. Call it a twin thing. 

"So you should have left me, come here, and not come back home?" 

Oop. He hesitates for just a second too long. "Thought so."

"No—Dirk, wait, _don't_ —" 

Too late. You're already running, heading deeper into the passage and hoping like hell that there's nothing for you to trip over, because even if you're faster than Hal it's only by a little bit, and you want to draw him far enough in that he'll find someone who'll give him the answers he came for.

* * *

By the time you run out of breath, the passage seems less like a cave and more like a hallway in a mansion somewhere. There's some kind of weird lighting set into the ceiling, the walls are wood paneling, and the floor is white tile. That last is nice and cool when you flop down to lie on it and gasp for breath. 

Hal reaches you maybe five seconds later and immediately kicks you in the ribs. Gently. Kind of gently. "You dick!" 

Then he collapses next to you, and you have to grin around your panting. "You're _slow,_ bro." 

" _Fuck_ you. And the horse you rode in on." 

"I'm kinkshaming you." 

"Stick your head in running water and count to a million." 

That's probably an insult or something, but all it does is start you laughing until you can't breathe. Again. Thankfully, that has a side effect of making Hal laugh too—you don't know why, but it's really hard for one of you to keep a straight face when the other one's laughing—which means he's a little less pissed. 

"Okay," he says finally. "You win." 

"We're under truce, I'm not trying to win anything, and you know it. I'm just not letting you be a quitter, is all." You sit up, getting to your feet and shoving your little flashlight in your pocket before offering him a hand up. "We need to find someone to talk to, right?" 

"Right." He nods and takes your hand to pull himself up, smoothing his hair back once he's on his feet and looking around. "But _hopefully_ that counted as our first test. I mean, I didn't mean it to be, but it could've made us go home, so maybe it qualifies?" 

"Back up. First test?" 

"There's supposed to be three." Hal starts walking as he talks, further down the hallway, and you follow a step or two behind him. "Like, it's payment for passage into the Court. Or something. I think." 

"...okay then." God you wish he was a little more sure of that. "So there's at least two more." 

"Unless we get lucky and meet someone friendly before that, yeah." Hal shrugs and stops in front of a door, examining it for a second. "But there's almost certainly something behind this door, anyway." 

"Cool. Are you going to open it, or should I?" 

He just snorts and pulls the door open.

* * *

The room is full of mirrors. No, the room _is_ mirrors, reflecting a thousand images of you and Hal as you step inside. 

You automatically shut the door behind yourself, which may be a mistake since it doesn't open when you push on it. "Hal." 

"Yeah?" 

"Don't you dare let go of my hand." You already can't tell the reflection from the real thing, except for the fact that you've got a good grip on the latter. If you lose contact with him, you're fairly sure it'll be hard to find him again.

"...good point. Come on." And he pulls you forward, his free hand stretched out in front of him. 

"Can you actually see where the door out of here is?" 

"I don't think there _is_ a door. Not a real one, anyway." 

"So..." 

"One of the mirrors should let us through." Your twin makes a thoughtful sound as his hand hits smooth glass. "This would be faster with two hands." 

That could be him asking you to let him go. Instead, you take it the way he actually means, and reach out with your free hand to try and find a mirror to touch.

* * *

It seems like _forever_ before you reach out and your hand sinks into a mirror up to your wrist. "Hey!" 

When Hal looks over at you, you pull your hand halfway out. The mirror feels like cool water; you're a little disappointed when your hand isn't coated in whatever mirrors are made of. The look of proud delight on your twin's face isn't disappointing, though. 

"Want me to go through first?" he asks. 

"Believe it or not, this one actually doesn't scare me. Come on." You grin back at him, and step through, pulling him after you. 

Ouch. Passing through with your eyes open was also a mistake; it makes them sting and water, forcing you to stop and blink away the tears. Before you shut your eyes, you do see that this room looks normal, like a mildly fancy dining room or something. 

"I don't like this," Hal announces, letting go of your hand. 

"It looks like Aunt Rose's house." 

"I know. It shouldn't. That's why I don't like it." 

You wisely decide to not say anything in answer to that. Hal frowns at the room for a minute, then makes a slow circuit around it, examining the wall, the table, each of the chairs in turn. You just let him look everything over, until he gets around to checking out the door on the opposite wall. 

_Then_ you step up next to him. "Is it locked?" 

"I don't know." After twisting the knob experimentally, he shakes his head. "Nope." 

"So we can just walk through?" 

"Maybe." 

"Maybe?" 

"Dirk, any way you count, we haven't had more than two tests." Hal stares at the door like it's going to bite him. "There's probably something on the other side that's not going to be fun. At all." 

"Well...we're not turning around." 

"I know _that._ " He rolls his eyes at you, twisting the doorknob again. This time he follows through with the action, though, pushing the door open and stepping through it. "Just be caref— _ghk_!" 

You have no idea what prompted that choked sound from him, but there's no way it's a good thing. Especially since he reaches up to grab at his collarbone, then just...collapses. Like a puppet with cut strings. 

"Hal?" Stepping inside is probably a bad idea. You don't fucking care. "Hal, what—" 

Oh, yeah, bad idea. You take one step towards him, the tile under your feet shifts maybe a quarter of an inch, and something thin, sharp, and _extremely_ strong fastens itself all the way around your neck and tightens down, dragging you backwards. 

You can't get enough breath to make any sound other than a pained wheezing noise, as you scrabble at the thing around your neck—a wire, it feels like a wire—and yank against it, trying to get to your brother. That doesn't really do anything other than make it tighten down—evidently it's meant to keep you out of reach, because when you panic and stop trying to move, the wire loosens enough to let you breathe again. 

Okay. Okay. 

Actually, no, not okay. Fuck this. 

You take a deep breath, hold it in, and lunge forward again. 

Yep, that makes the wire tighten, and it doesn't really _stop_ tightening, because you don't stop pulling against it. You _can't_ stop. Hal, your brother, your twin—he's on the floor, limp and obviously unconscious, and even if you're (apparently) allowed to stand calmly and safely so long as you don't try to get to him, you won't do that. Can't do that. 

Your throat is bleeding. That's definitely bad. 

The fact that you're running out of air in your lungs is worse, since you're pretty sure the wire won't loosen if you collapse where you are now. But you're so _close_ to getting his hand, being able to yank him back into the circle of where the wire will let you breathe—you can't give up—

_Fuck._

Your vision's greying out around the edges, but you can dimly hear one of the doors out of this room opening, and, less dimly, somebody say something that your oxygen-deprived brain won't quite parse. 

Whatever the guy's saying, he sounds annoyed. And loud. 

Your legs give out and so does the last of your sight, leaving you lying on the floor and trying to breath through an airway that's too constricted to allow it. 

_Dave's going to be so upset,_ you think.

Then there's hands on you. Big, warm hands that're a little rougher than their owner probably means to be, because he's in a hurry. He wrenches something off you, scoops you up for the floor and holds you upright with an arm around your shoulders as you gasp and cough. 

You're aware that he's saying something. Also, that your shirt's wet around the neckline; apparently the wire cut you worse than you thought it did. 

Despite those two distractions, as soon as you get enough air that your brain will at least start working again, you squirm loose of the man who's holding you, diving across the floor and pushing your twin's limp body over so you can try to see how badly he's hurt. 

...actually, he doesn't seem to _be_ hurt. Which is not, actually, reassuring. 

"Kid, you need to hold the fuck still," the guy behind you says, startling you into looking back at him. He's fae (which you should have expected, you guess, considering where you are), maybe roughly the same height as Dave but still a lot bigger than your brother is, with black hair that doesn't look like he's ever bothered to brush it, eyes that're a shade lighter than either Hal or Dave's, and an irritated look on his face that you suspect might be permanent. "You're bleeding all over yourself." And, muttered under his breath, "Fucking empress, can't set her shit to tell the difference between _kids_ and rogues—" 

You scoot back when he reaches for you. "What about Hal?" 

" _Hal_?" The fae's eyebrows go straight up as his focus changes from you to your twin. "Fucking stars and stones. Why the _fuck_ —" 

This seems like it could just lead to him cursing for a while, so you decide to interrupt. "What's wrong with him?" 

"He's a fucking idiot! That's what's wrong with him!" The fae growls and facepalms when you flinch at how loudly he shouts that, and makes a visible effort to be quieter with his next words. "There's an iron dart in his chest. You need to pull it out so I can take you both back where you fucking _belong._ " 

"But—" Actually, getting the iron away from Hal's skin is the first priority. You nod and lean over your twin, examining his chest until you find what the fae's talking about—a small rod about the size of a pencil, one end buried in Hal's skin, just below his collarbone. 

It doesn't want to come out, either, and when you grit your teeth and yank it out anyway, Hal yelps and jerks awake. 

You immediately start crying at the fact that he's bleeding. Predictably, he does the same thing once he opens his eyes and sees your neck. 

The fae sighs and gathers you both up in his arms. Despite being loud and obviously less than thrilled at meeting the two of you, he's also gentle. And soft. And doesn't push you and Hal away when you both decide to bury your faces in his shirt.

* * *

When the fae firmly sets you down, you're fairly surprised to realize that he's putting you on the couch in your own living room. He puts Hal down next to you a second later, scowling at your twin and shaking one finger at him. 

"You," he says, "are _really fucking stupid._ " 

Hal stares up at him defiantly for a second, then bites his lip and turns to you, reaching up to touch your neck and wincing when you flinch back. "Fuck, I'm—" 

"Sorry? I mean, you got spiked with iron; I think you got it just as bad as I did." You grab his wrist and pull his hand away before he can try to heal you; after having iron actually break his skin, you know his abilities are going to be messed up for days or weeks. "Are you okay?" 

Hal just shrugs. 

The fae snorts and shakes his head, kneeling down in front of the couch and glaring at Hal. When your twin looks down, he glares at you instead. 

You, however, don't actually intend to look away. "I'm Dirk," you tell him. 

He rolls his eyes. "Believe it or not, I actually knew that. I met you when you were a baby." 

"As in, when you tried to trade me for him?" Hal asks. 

"You mean when you tricked the empress into losing her pet changeling _and_ the human she traded it for," the fae corrects, reaching up to run one finger across the cut around your neck. "But yeah, that'd be it. This is going to scar." 

Hal groans and you echo him, adding, "Dave's going to _kill_ us." 

"Well." The fae meets your eyes for a second, letting his mouth curve into a brief smile. "At least he'll only do it metaphorically, not literally. I'm Karkat." 

Hal makes a soft, surprised sound. You think you actually know why, but before you can confirm your suspicions Karkat's hand makes another pass across the cut around your neck, trailing what feels like fire as he touches you. You almost bite the tip of your tongue off in pained surprise. 

"Sorry." 

"Ouch," you say, and since your neck doesn't hurt as much as it did before, "Thanks." 

Your twin swats the back of your head. Very gently. "You can't thank fae." 

"Too late," Karkat mutters, settling himself into a more comfortable position on the floor and crossing his arms. "The main reason you don't thank fae is because that binds them to you, dumbass. And since I just took two of the empress's potential pets out of one of her traps, I'm fucking stuck here. With you two. And your guardian, but that's the positive point here." 

You look at Hal. 

Hal looks at you. 

Before he can say anything, you tell him, "This is the exact opposite of not getting me grounded." 

He nods, a bit sheepishly. "You know what, that's fair."

* * *

What you actually do is make Hal sit in a chair in the kitchen and lay a salt circle around him so he has to stay there. Which is where he is when Dave comes home—sitting in his enforced timeout, talking to Karkat, who's currently rearranging everything in the kitchen into something more resembling order. 

You're perched on the counter. 

Dave opens the door, stares at the kid in the salt circle and the fae sorting out silverware into the proper spots in the drawer, then gives you an extremely confused look. "...okay," he says slowly, "what the _hell_ is going on?" 

You shrug. "This is Karkat," you tell him. "And—" 

Probably because he's less than willing to let you be the one to have the dubious honor of explaining, Hal chooses this exact minute to start talking over you. And Karkat tries to explain as well. After a minute of this, you just shrug and shut up. 

Eh, this'll all work itself out. Eventually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The style on this fic is...weird? 
> 
> also the explanation for why Hal kept his powers is very simple: Dave let him keep his name. If a changeling is successful, they'll be adopted to replace the child they're impersonating, expected to assume that child's name and personality (even if it's not always too convincing) which means that they're stripped of their own name and nature. But Hal was accepted as Hal, not as Dirk, so he kept his self and abilities.


End file.
